Conversation · Joyce Messier

"Wash it nice and clean..."

"Clean, yes. Nothing will grow here for twenty years. Krenel will send in gunships and the Coalition Government will follow suit."

"Isn't this a pretty... bleak scenario you're describing?"

"Many bleak scenarios have already come to pass to lead us here..." She looks at you, eyes damp from the wind.

"All we can do is keep the rest from going the same way. One single, concrete suspect delivered into Civil Court -- and I may be able to defuse this situation."

"All we can do is keep the rest from following suit. One single, concrete suspect delivered into Civil Court -- and I may be able to defuse this situation."

"See, this is the Great Bloodletting I've been telling everyone about."

"I am sorry to confirm it."

"I can't see it happen. Too many things would have to go wrong first."

"Too many things have already gone wrong." She looks to you, eyes damp from the wind.

"All we can do is keep that which has not from following suit. One single, concrete suspect delivered into Civil Court -- and I may be able to defuse this situation."

"All we can do is keep the little that has not from following suit. One single, concrete suspect delivered into Civil Court -- and I may be able to defuse this situation."

"See, Kim. This is that Great Bloodletting I've been telling you about."

"It appears you've found it, yes. And I'm not happy for you."

"I think the confrontation is inevitable."

"It doesn't have to be like this." She looks at you, eyes damp from the wind.

"One single, concrete suspect delivered into Civil Court -- a good one -- and I may be able to defuse this situation."

"One single, concrete suspect delivered into Civil Court -- and I may be able to defuse this situation."

Shudder.

"It will not be a pretty sight."

The muzzle-loaders need to be reloaded after every one or two shots -- the automatics every one or two minutes.

The Union has over two thousand men.

"What can they do against the Union? There seem to be a lot of them."

"The numbers are against them -- a thousand to one."

"Too many investigations in Martinaise."

"My only hope is that yours provides a single, concrete suspect -- before they indiscriminately pick theirs. Simply put..." She grabs hold of the mainsail:

"Boy oh boy, is that not good..."

"It's not good, no," a wave crashes against the side of her boat. "My only hope is that you provide a single, concrete suspect before the mercenaries indiscriminately pick theirs. Simply put..." She grabs hold of the mainsail:

"I have to say -- this is not disco."

"It is very far from disco." A wave crashes against the side of her boat. "My only hope is that you provide a single, concrete suspect before the mercenaries indiscriminately pick theirs. Simply put..." She grabs hold of the mainsail:

"You've made a mess here."

"It was the Union who strung him from that tree." A wave crashes against the side of her boat. "My hope is that you provide a single, concrete suspect before Krenel indiscriminately pick theirs. Simply put..." She grabs hold of the mainsail:

"Who are they?"

"Krenel -- an Oranjese military company. As far as I know three arrived in Martinaise. They report to me sporadically, but they do not answer to me. To be frank, our relationship is deteriorating."

"Every worker..."

"'Every worker a member of the board'. I tried to convince my employer it was simply a piece of rhetoric and not a serious demand. But the... stridency of it seems to have spooked them."

"What was that about a... blood bath?"

"Yes. I'm afraid this strike may descend into a small scale civil war. With possible consequences for all of Revachol West."

"Since you're sharing, ma'am -- this is also the RCM's worst case scenario."

"Then we're on the same page -- as grim as it may be."

"Don't you want to know where I found my badge?" (Put your badge away.)

"You found it the motor carriage you drove into the sea."

"Damn right."

Your response does not inspire great faith in the RCM.

"It doesn't matter. What matters is -- you found it. And not a moment too soon."

"No. It was a in a good, normal place."

"Good for you." She looks at the coastline, then at you. "Now back to the impending blood bath."

"I think I know where you found it, Officer Du Bois -- in that motor carriage protruding from the ice over there."

"This colonel, the one who was hanged -- did you know him?"

"If you mean did I see him alive -- yes. But I did not know him."

You don't know how you know -- it's not written on her face, nor in her voice -- but she had sympathy for this man.

"You liked him."

"Liked is a bit strong," she tosses her head. "He... he was the most charismatic among them. He handled all the talking. His departure left a major gap in the group's communication skills."

"His name was..."

"Lely. His service name, a nom de guerre most likely. He wouldn't divulge his full name. Only one of them did -- a bad sign if there ever was one."

"This Lely -- anything else? Nationality? How old would you say he was?"

"He was forty. Or fifty. It's hard to say which, he had a combat injury on his lower jaw. It made it difficult to estimate his age, or gauge his facial expressions."

"Indeed. This matches the dental reconstruction we saw on the body," he says to you, then turns back to Joyce. "What else? Nationality? Accent?"

"He was Occidental I think. Light brown hair, a mix accent. Oranjese, or Messinian maybe? His injury gave him an accent all his own..."

"Occidental... that fits the statement of another witness," the lieutenant says, pleased.